The Art of Protection
by savvypen
Summary: Focusing on the developing relationship between Scarlet Witch and Vision, this story is set in an alternate universe of Civil War. Instead of joining the battle with the other Avengers, Wanda and Vision find themselves together in a safe house. Through isolation and chemistry, their friendship grows into something more. (This is my first fanfic, and I would love some feedback.)
1. Chapter 1

Tony Stark gazed up at his synthetic creation with determination in his eyes.

"We can't let the kid be recruited by Cap. You know I'm right about this."

Vision disliked it when his fellow Avengers referred to the Scarlet Witch as 'the kid'. Prior to his own birth only a few short months ago, Wanda was the youngest member of the group at 22. But if Vision had learned anything in his short life, the number of trips a person took around the sun did not determine their intelligence or capability. He himself was a perfect example of this. But so was Wanda. In the time he had known her, they had become fast friends, her introducing him to the human world and him trying to rescue her from the darkness of her own mind.

Vision returned Stark's look with a determined one of his own, "I cannot betray her in this way, Mr. Stark. Her trust is hard to earn and rarely given."

By the set in his jaw, Tony knew he would have to try a different approach to convince Vision to take the witch to the safe house he had built specifically to contain her powers. He, however, was still not above his original plan of drugging her and carrying her there himself. The situation would just be much more convenient if Vision would comply. Knowing his creation's adoration for the logical, Tony adopted a different approach.

"Convince her then," Tony turned to Vision. "You may not agree with my method of transportation, but you can't deny the safe house is the best place for Wanda to be. You can't see the future, but you can know the most probable outcomes of an event. Show her your mind. Show her what will happen if she joins Cap."

Vision considered the truth ringing in his creator's words. From the second he heard of Steve Rodger's plans, he knew no good would come if Wanda joined the fight. Her recruitment would mean his as well. Aligning himself with Stark, it would be his duty to counter the witch's powers with his own, protecting the team but also her.

Aside from the issue of her volatile abilities, there was also the matter of the public's opinion of her. As much as Vision hated it, they blamed Wanda for the bombing that still woke her nightly, trembling with fear and guilt. If she were to join Captain America, the public would only focus on the similarities between her and Sargent Barnes even more. Both had received their enhancements from the WWII antagonist HYDRA, both were the faces of recent bombings that resulted in the deaths of public officials, both were utterly alone in the world.

Vision gazed out the window. Tony Stark was right, even if his methods were incorrect. Wanda could not be permitted to fight with Captain America. He had simulated the outcomes of the Captain's actions countless times in the past three days, but the results were always the same: Wanda's being there would always directly cause the injury or death of one of the team members. The team needed to survive to face whatever supernatural or extraterrestrial foe was coming next. If a team member were to die in battle, it would better service the world if it happened against a real enemy, not during a preventable civil war between the Avengers.

Though he hated to admit it, his reasons for keeping her away were selfish all the guilt she still harbored both for the recent bombing and the death of her twin brother in the battle against Ultron, Vision knew that Wanda would slowly slip away if she hurt one of her friends. Not to mention she would most likely be imprisoned as a result of the civil war between the Avengers. He realized then that he would do whatever it took to keep his witch from experiencing any more pain.

He turned back to Tony, "Upon further analysis, it would appear that you are correct, Mr. Stark. Wanda cannot be present when the fighting ensues. I hope we do not have to take her to the safe house against her will, but you have my permission if it comes to that."

With these words, the pit of Vision's stomach burned with anxiety, a new sensation that Wanda had assured him was a human response to emotion.

Tony's eyes met his friend's. He reached out and touched Vision's shoulder before continuing slowly, "You have one day. This time tomorrow, I will be back to take her away if you can't."

With that, Stark turned and left the kitchen of the Avengers facility, understanding that Vision needed some time alone to process their decision.

Vision glanced at his reflection in the long windows that were set in the southern facing wall. He watched his red brow bone furrow as he hoped he had made the right choice.


	2. Chapter 2

Vision was finding it difficult to concentrate on the movie that was playing. Her lack of creature comforts growing up left Wanda with the desire to consume any and every outlet she had missed. Today she had chosen the Wizard of Oz. With her feet resting in his lap, he watched her absentmindedly play with a lock of her red-brown hair as they lounged together on the long couch.

His anxiety was boiling over, a sensation he had never experienced, as he contemplated how to approach the topic at the forefront of his mind. Knowing they only had a few more precious hours together before her world was turned upside down yet again, vision tried to turn his attention back to the movie.

He couldn't decide who he related to most. Though he knew the obvious answer would be the Tin Man, he saw him self in the other male leads as well. Like him, the Tin Man also struggled to comprehend human emotion. Vision often felt hollow inside when he pondered his creation. They were both made by man to serve a purpose; he and this character had that in common too.

But there was also the Scarecrow. While the Scarecrow's wishes seemed furthest from his own, Vision was beginning to believe that his vast intelligence produced even larger knowledge gaps. Simply having access to information was not enough in this harsh, sharp reality in which he found himself. Intelligence was rooted in fact, but true knowledge was grown from experience, something he feared he lacked.

He considered the Cowardly Lion. Was Vision really a coward? Before the events this morning with Tony, he didn't think so. Now however, he wasn't so sure. He knew the time before his creator returned was dwindling rapidly, yet he couldn't bring himself to begin the conversation with Wanda that could save her life. Yes, he decided. That absolutely made him a coward.

Feeling his gaze on her face, Wanda turned from the movie, her eyes veiled with concern for her friend.

"Is something the matter Vis?" Wanda asked in her heavily accented voice.

Vision knew this was the moment he had been waiting for, yet he couldn't bring himself to speak the words that might ruin their friendship.

They looked at each other for a small eternity before Vision finally spoke.

"Mr. Stark dropped by today," he said in a tone he was hoping resembled nonchalance.

Wanda raised her eyebrows in surprise at his words. Vision knew that Tony was a sore spot for the witch. She was grateful to Stark for giving life to her best friend, but the darkest moments in her own life were clouded with his influence. The missile that killed her parents, the one with _Stark Industries_ plastered on the side, flashed through her mind. In rapid succession she saw both of her parents' lifeless bodies followed by her beloved twin brother's. Although an accident, if Tony had never tried to create Ultron, her brother wouldn't have been shot and killed in Sokovia. In her mind, Stark owed her a debt, one that could never be repaid. He took her family. His gift of Vision came close to settling the score, but the parts of her that were stripped away when her loved ones died would never fully return.

The confusion registered in her voice, "Okay? Why are you telling me this?"

"Clint will arrive tomorrow night to recruit you for the team Captain America is building. He is on his way here now."

Wanda blinked in surprise. "He's going to try to recruit me? I am dangerous. He knows that."

She lowered her eyes as she spoke the words. Her feet were still in his lab as Vision reached over and stroked her knee in comfort.

"Mr. Stark has prepared a safe house for you. It is isolated enough that you can hone your powers without harming the outside world," Vision spoke softly. "It is not safe for you to join this battle, Wanda. Look into my mind and you will see it."

Her brown eyes met his unnatural blue as he continued, "If you will let me, I would like to take you there. As soon as possible."

The witch's heart thudded loudly in her ears as she considered his words. To betray Clint was almost too much for her to comprehend. He too blamed himself for her brother's death. Her life had been permanently scarred, and Clint had done his best to help her pick up the pieces. Aside from the synthetic man sitting next to her, Clint was the only person in the world she truly trusted. He could never replace the hole left by her own father's death, but he did manage to draw its edges closer together.

"I don't know, Vision," her voice rasped with fought back emotion. "He is my only family. To betray him like that…" she trailed off.

Vision shifted and took her small, pale hands in his red ones. "I know he is an important part of your life, but please Wanda, search my mind. See what I have seen. You cannot fight with them. It only results in destruction."

Vision regretted the words as soon as they passed his lips. He saw the hurt flash across her face before she turned her head, shielding her expression with her hair.

He cupped her cheek in his hand, turning her face to meet his eyes again. "I do not wish to cause you any pain, but you must look into my mind. I have simulated every possible scenario with you being there. If there was any other way, you know I would have found it."

Vision felt the familiar push between his eyes as his friend entered his thoughts. He watched her eyes glass over as she sorted through his consciousness. Minutes passed as Wanda replayed the thousands of possibilities in Vision's head. When she retreated back into her own mind, a single tear fell down her face.

Vision didn't have to search her thoughts to know what she was thinking: she was a monster. She had seen his mind, and with it the endless ways she would hurt the ones she cared about if she joined the Captain's team. He hated the hurt he caused her, but he knew her decision was made. They were going to the safe house. Tony would be relieved he was able to convince her, but as she withdrew inside herself, Vision worried about the damage he had just done to their friendship.


	3. Chapter 3

People who have given up hope have a certain air about them: a far off gaze in their eyes, a posture that somehow seems to make them shrink, a voice that seems to be both void and bursting with emotion.

Though Vision had little experience with human emotion in the few weeks after his birth, this was his analysis of Wanda following the death of her brother. It is what first drew him to her. He, a synthetic man, deprived of humanity, easily recognized Wanda as the most human creature he would ever experience. For weeks, he studied her from afar, noting how the further she spiraled, the more her astonishing abilities seemed to slip from her control. It wasn't until he was sure he had learned all he could from her current state that he decided to introduce the variable of himself into her life.

As he earned her trust, their friendship grew. Surrounded by the all consuming loss of her other half, Wanda's time with Vision was a lighthouse in her vast tempest. He watched in wonder as her true personality began to emerge from the cracks in her depression. Witnessing her reveal herself was nearly more than the Vision could comprehend. He was still baffled in his discovery that the complexity of the human mind rivaled that of his own. Their friendship progressed in the weeks following their battle with Ultron, with Wanda becoming unrecognizable to the woman she was at the beginning of Vision's life. She was a bright soul whose light shown like the scarlet wisps of her magic.

But as Vision sat on the edge of her bed watching her pack for the safe house, he realized in horror that she began to resemble that former husk of a person again.

Folding her favorite dress into her worn duffel bag, she kept her back to her friend, knowing her glowing eyes would betray the emotions raging inside her. She was always quick to seek his guidance and comfort, but something about their conversation earlier kept her mouth shut. Vision had always religiously assured Wanda that her lack of control over her powers didn't define her, which made his decision to take her away to Stark's safe house all the more heart wrenching. He truly believed her turbulent nature would cause more harm than good. Although he promised this trip was so he could help hone her magic, she had seen his mind, and his true intentions were a betrayal.

The last of her things had been safely tucked away into her bag. With Vision still behind her, she stood before her floor to ceiling window.

"I'll be back," she said rushing through the door of the adjoining bathroom to her right.

Slamming the door behind her, she gave herself a onceover in the mirror. She cursed to herself in Sokovian as she realized her eyes weren't the only thing with a red gleam. Her hair, normally a dull auburn, was practically buzzing with scarlet energy. Vision had always been so keen to her emotions. He was sure to recognize the storm inside her was raging. She turned on the tap, letting the warm water stream through her fingers. The witch naïvely hoped the water would wash away the remanence of power that glowed at her fingertips. Though she couldn't scrub the power from her veins, the warm flow washing over her skin did begin to calm her, and the sparkle of her magic dulled. Looking to continue this effect, she splashed water over her face, letting it run down her breasts and soak into the neck of her black dress.

She turned and reentered her bedroom, satisfied that she no longer glowed red with emotion.

"I am ready to leave," she addressed Vision with feigned confidence. "I do not wish to be here when Clint arrives tomorrow."

Vision rose from her gray bedding, also eager to be on their way. If they were still here when Tony came in the morning, he worried his friend might find out he had reluctantly consented to let Stark drug her if she had not agreed to go willingly.

In her silence, Vision decided it would be best to fill her in on their travel plans. They walked to the compound's extensive hanger as he spoke.

"We will be traveling by helicopter to the safe house Mr. Stark has prepared for you. It is located on a small, private island on the Canadian side of Lake Superior."

When Vision was greeted with no response from the witch, he continued, "The island is located 617 miles away, so we will be landing to refuel once. I anticipate we will arrive at our location at approximately 10:32 PM Eastern Standard Time."

Wanda knew her friend was floundering at her cold exterior, but she couldn't be bothered to care at the moment. Feeling more alone than she had since the death of her brother, all she wanted was to get to their destination so she could be alone. She desperately needed to process the events of the afternoon, including her new conflicted feelings toward Vision, in peace.

As the ground shrank beneath them, the sun disappeared over the western horizon. Vision was too busy communicating about local flight patterns and piloting the craft to notice Wanda had taken off her headphones so she wouldn't hear if he tried to speak to her. Her whirling thoughts began calm as the white noise of the blades lulled her into a trance.

When they were safely on their way, he glanced over to see his friend dozing, their only means of communication over the noise clutched loosely between her hands. A jolt of rejection seized through him as they flew further away from the only home either of them had ever known.


	4. Chapter 4

As they approached the safe house, Vision gently nudged Wanda's arm to wake her. The witch had managed to sleep for the entirety of their flight to the small island Stark had purchased when she officially joined the Avengers. Although he was still hurt by her choice to shut him out for the duration of their flight, Vision was relieved his friend was able to rest. He had calculated she had been getting exponentially more sleep these last few months of their friendship, but an exponential increase from 0 still did not produce an adequate amount of rest to sustain her overpowered body.

The first time he felt her power late at night, he had been confused. He deducted she was simply adding additional training hours to her regimen to impress her new team. It was not until he saw her napping on the couch in the living area that he discovered the truth. As she lay there that afternoon, her fingers twitched as the power radiated from her in waves, responding to the dreamscape she was experiencing. Vision observed in fascination as the furniture lifted from the ground and migrated around the room. He was broken from his trance when Wanda jolted in her sleep, falling, still unconscious, from the couch, plummeting the twenty feet she had levitated. Vision dove, catching her in his arms a moment before her body met the floor. Her green eyes opened, full of fear and confusion, and met his concerned blue ones.

She had explained this was a nightly occurrence, keeping her from truly sleeping for fear she would injure herself or one of the other Avengers. She lie awake every night, fending off sleep for as long as possible; in the event that sleep found her, she set alarm for every hour of the night, insuring she would not be unconscious for long.

From that night forward, Vision posted outside her door, waiting for the familiar tingle of her magic to tell him she was having a nightmare. He would reach out with his own power, probing her thoughts, interacting with her sleeping mind until she was soothed and her magic was contained. She began to appear more rested, healthier. She was able to reach a safe body weight for the first time in her life. She performed better during training with the others. She even began to smile. Though he could not cure her of her nightmares, his selfless act of kindness each night resulted in the beginning of their friendship.

As the Helicopter landed, Wanda wasn't sure if it was Vision's touch on her shoulder or sudden lack of white noise that woke her.

"We have arrived," Vision announced as he began to unfasten his safety belt and gather their belongings.

Wanda climbed out of the craft and surveyed her surroundings. The rocky island was surrounded by black waters that lapped against the sharp stones of the shore. If she hadn't already been informed that the location of the safe house was in the upper portion of Lake Superior, she could have sworn they were in the middle of the ocean. Isolated was an apt explanation of the place, the way Vision had described it to her before they left. There was no one around for miles, making it an ideal site for Wanda to develop her skills. If she focused hard enough on the horizon line, she thought she could just make out what looked to be the lights of civilization, but it could've also been the reflection of the full moon overhead on the surprisingly large waves.

Turning around, she caught her first glimpse of the safe house she would be living in for the foreseeable future. The lovely structure was nothing like she expected. The quaint cottage before her starkly contrasted the modern style Tony was so fond of. The two story building welcomed them in with white shutters and a perfectly weather worn front porch. Warm light shone from its many paned windows, reveling the house was painted a rich ruby red. She realized with a start that the particular shade was exactly between the maroon of Vision's skin and the scarlet of her own magic, a perfect mix of them both.

"Mr. Stark consulted me on the purchase and renovation of the cottage," Vision confessed in his British accent. "I thought this color was particularly appropriate. I have been reading literature on color theory, and designed a red that embodied both of our shades." His face bore a thoughtful expression. The beauty of his gesture thawed some of the animosity she experienced earlier that evening, leaving the witch even more conflicted.

With Vision carrying their belongings, the two made their way up the winding stone path to their cottage. As Wanda stepped onto the porch, a woman's animatronic voice welcomed her to the property. She decided the locking mechanisms must automatically open in their presence when she heard a faint, metallic click from the door. Wanda swung the door open and stopped in her tracks, leaving vision standing just behind her.

"Wanda, is something the matter?" he asked in response to her stunned silence.

The inside of the cottage was Sokovia, down to the smell of warm spices that hung deliciously in the air. White walls led to a wooden planked ceiling with sturdy beams running the length of the room. A free standing stone fireplace stood in the middle of the space. The burning logs crackled, beckoning them in the house. Past the fireplace, Wanda saw the room extended to the back of the structure, with glass doors that opened to the water beyond. The kitchen stood directly to her left, the new appliances begging to be broken in. The dining area to her right housed a polished wooden table and chairs that matched the wood above their heads. Beyond the fireplace, Wanda saw a lovely living area with inviting antique furniture and bookshelves lining the walls. A staircase led up to what she assumed were the sleeping and bathing areas. The entire western wall was covered in paned windows. She could see the light from the full moon shining outside, and was sure they provided a spectacular view of the water during the day. Everything in the cottage was distinctly Eastern European in style. She instantly felt at home.

Shock still covered her features as she turned to look up at Vision.

"Please say something," Vision whispered to the open mouthed witch. "Are you upset by the décor? I can have it all removed by tomorrow morning if it bothers you."

"Did you do all this?" her tone was equally hushed.

"Well, I just wanted you to be comfortable during your stay here. If it reminds you too much of your brother and family, I understand and am truly sorry."

The sincerity in his eyes was overwhelming.

"Vis, it's because it reminds me of my family that it's so perfect."

Vision had managed to capture her childhood home. Equally inviting and comforting, Wanda knew it would break her heart to leave this place. It brought back a flood of memories from simpler times, happier times. She could imagine her mother making chicken paprikash in the kitchen while her father sang them Sokovian children's songs on the sofa.

Vision watched the emotion paint her face with lovely expressions, ones he had never seen her wear. She explored her new surroundings as if she were in a dream, afraid she would wake at any moment. He decided to let her experience her memories uninterrupted, so he carried their bags up the stairs and into the bedroom.

When he returned, he found her curled on the couch, gazing out the window to the moon tinted lake surrounding them. He could tell that her anger toward him had thawed slightly, and he was grateful for the design decisions he had made when renovating the small cottage.

They both sat in comfortable silence for some time before Wanda finally spoke.

"I'm in awe of this, Vis."

"I knew that us coming here would be the result of less than pleasant circumstances. I wanted to create a sanctuary where you could comfortably develop your magical talents." He chuckled, "Had I known this would be your reaction, I would have brought you here months ago."

Wanda moved from her position on the couch, her features no longer relaxed as his words brought back the memory of the conversations they had before they left the Avengers Compound. She knew the true reason they had come to the safe house; she couldn't control her powers. Staying and fighting with Captain America meant hurting and possibly killing the people she had grown to care about. She looked at the colorful rug beneath her feet.

"I think I should go get ready for bed," she said, once again closing herself off from her best friend.

"Of course," Replied Vision, not pushing her to share her thoughts. He knew that he had damaged their friendship by bringing her here. The beauty of the cottage did not change what had transpired before they left the compound.

"Which room is mine?" she asked as she began moving to the stairs.

"There is only one room."

Wanda whipped around to face her friend. "What do you mean only one room? There are two of us?"

"Wanda, I do not share your basic needs. The room upstairs is yours. While you sleep, I will remain here, occupying my time with the many books Mr. Stark and I stocked." His look was one of amusement.

"Oh, right. It's so easy to forget. I sometimes believe you are more human than us all."

When Wanda reached the top of the staircase, she saw that the whole second story was one large bedroom, decorated in the same style as the first floor of the cottage. She made her way through the door at the far end of the room into the bathroom, nearly squealing in delight at the huge claw foot tub that sat against a wall of windows. Wanting to wash the travel from her body, she pealed off her clothes as she adjusted the temperature of the steaming water.

Sinking into the bath, the witch studied the soaps arranged on a nearby table. She gave one a tentative sniff. Lavender, her favorite scent, tantalized her nose. Vision really had though of everything, she mused as the day soaked from her body.

Directly below her, Vision lounged on the couch, his eyes closed. He listened as the bath water filled the tub. Smiling to himself, he remembered finding the deep vessel, sure she would love it. Living on the streets with her twin brother most of her life, Wanda didn't experience many comforts growing up. It was part of the reason she was so obsessed with scalding baths now.

The smell of lavender filled his nose, amplified by the steam drifting out of the bathroom. He knew it was her signature scent. She once told him the story of the lavender goat milk soap she and her mother made together when she was a small child. Much like the decorations he purchased for the house, he knew the soap would remind the witch of her home.

In his mind's eye, he could see her relaxing in her steaming bath, her long red hair floating in tentacles around her breasts. He wished he could see her like this, relaxed and sedated from the warm water. He wanted to observe the way she worked the lavender shampoo through her locks. Was it as he imagined? Did her features lighten with pleasure as she massaged her scalp?

At once Vision registered the out of control thoughts racing though his mind, startled by their intimacy. This wasn't the first time he had wondered how Wanda would behave when no one was watching, but this experience bordered on something else entirely. The clinical nature in which he regarded the witch seemed to be evolving, producing thoughts he would be ashamed for her to discover. As he made a note not to invite her into his mind any time soon, his face warmed with embarrassment. No, he realized, not embarrassment at all. Vision's synthetic skin was hot with desire.

Confused by the new experience, he pushed all thoughts of Wanda's bath out of his mind. Scanning the shelves around him, he settled on one of the volumes he had been eager to read. He opened the book, determined to focus on the pages and not the bathing woman above him.


End file.
